Kyonko no Densetsu
by Quis Custodiet
Summary: Tortured and abused, Kyonko seeks to escape from under the thumb of a deranged God who keeps destroying reality. A chance presents itself and she finds herself thrown into an alternate dimension where the only person she can rely on is... a male version of herself? KyonXKyonko
1. Foreword

I don't generally write forewords for my stories, but I felt that this one due to the nature of it needed a little extra.

You see, the idea for this story came to me after reading a couple of other pieces where Haruhi is portrayed as someone who can go dangerously out of control and start treating people as actual play things instead of human beings. You see this in the normal continuity in how Haruhi treats Mikuru, particularly during the cultural festival arc where she outright declares that she sees Mikuru as her toy.

My idea was to basically take that sentiment and drag it out to it's logical horrific conclusion.

Once that was established, the next thing I wanted to do was make it even more terrifying. The one way that I felt that this could be accomplished was by taking Haruhi's normal behavior and inverting it along sexist lines. You see, one thing that doesn't get addressed often is that as a society we are far more forgiving of females acting abusive towards others than we are of males. Sure, we might chastise them or chide them for their behavior or for breaking social expectations, but we aren't _afraid of them_.

In that case, what if Haruhi was man named Haruki and what if Kyon was a woman named Kyonko. Under that circumstances what would be the normal dynamic of the relationship and how would it unsettle people to see behavior that is being played for laughs being played straight as terror.

Obviously I'm not the first person to genderswap a story, especially not in this fandom, and I doubt I'm the first person to portray an evil genderswap Haruhi either, but alas this is where my story led me and once I sat down and started to plot everything out (I do have a complete plot for this story) everything just sort of fell into place.

Suffice it to say, if you haven't picked up on it yet, the story that follows is dark. It's angsty. It's filled with abuse and suffering that will make you upset and angry. There may, just may, be something resembling if not a happy ending, at least not a terrible one, far down the line. I wouldn't recommend that anyone read the words that I wrote.

However, if you do, then I hope that you find it, if not enjoyable, emotional.


	2. Prologue

Morning always comes too fast these days. There was a time in my life, before I met _him_ , where my desire to sleep in was mostly due to my inherently lazy nature. However, recently, the few hours I get between my head hitting the pillow and the jabbing electronic beeping of my alarm clock pummelling my brain are the only moments of reprieve I get from the insanity that is my daily life.

You see, I'm the "chosen one" of God – or as I view it, his favorite play toy and frequent subject of abuse. It didn't used to be this bad, but then again God didn't used to be insane. It does nothing to improve my mood, but I can at least admit that on some level I'm responsible for this mess. After all, I ignored the advice of both Nagato-kun and Itsuko-chan on how to deal with that first instance of "Closed Space" and in doing so set in progress all the events leading up to today.

All I had to do was _kiss the idiot_. And it wasn't like I didn't necessarily want to either. Looking back on it, before he turned monstrous, Haruki was pretty much exactly my type of guy. Still, that being said, I just didn't want to be _forced_ into these kinds of things. What girl would? So instead, I let my pride and my stubbornness get in the way of saving reality and I suppose ultimately we all paid a price for it.

Unfortunately, the price I pay keeps going up.

I slap my hand down on the buzzing alarm and try to sit up straight. It's difficult for two reasons, or really I should say three. The first one is the overall poor condition of my body, which I will get to later. The other two reasons are hanging pendulously off my chest and currently making my t-shirt give off a foul spoilt-milk smell. There are no words to describe my utter disgust at what has become my morning ritual for the last few months, and all because that idiot Haruki believed the claims on the back of a box of joke cookies from Korea and his magic made them true.

The entire incident had created a massive mess (no pun intended) for the government. Just at our school alone, several other girls were unsuspectingly fed the tainted treats by delinquent boys and each one had a similar result to mine. I can only say similar, because unlike them, Haruki fed me _three_ entire boxes after he determined that the process wasn't working fast enough for him to see. Anyway, eventually everything was seized and taken off the market, but from time to time you hear a story about some asshole spiking his girlfriend or co-workers food. I guess in this case it's the cop's job to deal with the fallout of Haruki's perverted stupidity, although it's too bad they'll never be able to put him in jail for it. Certainly the bastard deserves it for everything he's done.

Slowly I roll my shirt up off my body and then fling it across the room. I wince as it lands with a decidedly wet "slapping" sound on my desk. The next step is to unzip the flaps on the maternity bra that I am wearing – a huge contraption that a girl my stature and age really ought not to have any business owning, and then with practice care I attach a pair of silicon cups to my poor, distended nipples.

This part is always the worst and not just because it hurts, but because of the _other_ changes that the bastard has made to me, I actually enjoy the pain.

I flip the switch on the machine. It's a gift from Nagato-kun, the one person it seems who is always trying to look out for me in this fucking place. Thank God for you Nagato-kun, and the _real_ one, not the bastard pretender who keeps ruining my life.

I shudder as the vacuum pump turns on and then wince slowly as the device starts to work its magic. I have to do this every day, at least once in the morning; otherwise I have found that I will spring leaks in the middle of class. Not that this would be the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me at school, but still I wish to avoid it if at all possible. Within moments the pain has subsided and a familiar flush of pleasure starts to creep over my body. I debate on what to do, but honestly I'd rather go away unsatisfied at this point. Anything else feels like giving into how that monster wants me to be. I desperately wish I could shit down his throat.

Instead I crack open the window of my bedroom and take out a cigarette from the pack I left on the sill. Normally, I'd be against the dangers of smoking for anyone else, but in my particular case I'm all for it. Maybe I'll get breast cancer and someone will have to cut these fuckers off of me. I never thought I'd say this, but at this point, I'd be happy to go back to my old flat-chested self. No stinky shirts, no chaffed nipples, no enormous bras, just delicious flat chest. Sounds like heaven!

"Kyonko, do you want breakfast this morning?" calls my mother from the hallway.

No thanks, I'll just sit here and smoke a few cigarettes while I wait for my cow udders to empty before school. Thankfully mom doesn't come into the room and instead retreats downstairs. I'm fairly certain that she knows what's going on with me, but she doesn't say anything outright about it. I'm not sure if this is Haruki's subconscious influence, or if this is just a very disturbing part of my mother's true nature that I never knew about.

That's probably uncharitable to my mother, who really is a fine woman. Truthfully she _has_ tried to talk to me about various… things. It's just that I keep shutting her down or yelling at her whenever she raises a concern. That may sound schizophrenic, but from my point of view I can't afford to have my parents oppose anything that Haruki wants to do. It's better if they and my sister, especially my sister, never draw his demented attention.

I light two more cigarettes as I wait for the machine to finish its job. I can't believe I tried to initially do this by hand. Sighing, I turn the machine off and take one last long drag on the cancer stick before stubbing it out. It's one of those foreign brands that are popular with the Thai merchants that run the fish market in town. It tastes like cloves and oranges and burns your lungs like fire. I imagine the burning sensation to be indication that they're doing the job of killing me effectively.

Walking over to my dresser I observe my form in the mirror. My skin is pasty and unhealthy, even by my own standards. My long brown hair, normally full and fresh is hanging limply and plastered to my sweaty body – and oh what a lewd body it is, with breasts nearly the size of melons topped by turgid nipples leaking suspicious fluid. I want to throw up in my mouth and I haven't even gotten to the best parts yet.

Slowly I reach for some concealer and start dabbing it on the ligature marks on my wrists and neck, then once that's complete I start applying it to the still visible bruises on my face, arms and legs. It takes a long time and the job is far from flawless, but at least I don't look like… well, like someone who really had these things done to her. This is the reason why I have trouble moving my body in the morning – the constant punishment I receive as part of the disgusting reality that Haruki has constructed.

By my recollection this is either the twenty second or twenty third reality that I know of. The discrepancy in counting is due mostly to me not being able to determine if I was dead and then resurrected by Haruki, or dead and simply re-created in a new reality. It's strange that I can say such things so dispassionately, but that's simply how it is.

At first the new realities that he created were relatively normal and I suppose that's why I continued to be as obstinate as I did, I never realized that I was in any sort of danger. After all, this was Haruki and I was pretty sure that he loved me even if I didn't want to admit it. I suppose that when you're pushing up against the edge of a cliff, you never really know which step is going to be your last unless you look. I was _really_ good at not looking.

I quickly learned that every time I rebuffed Haruki's affections or drove him away, within days reality would start to break down. After nothing suspiciously bad had happened the first time, I wasn't too concerned at this point. I'd just wake up one day realizing that I was once again beginning the school year over as I walked into my classroom and heard the familiar refrain –

" _I'm Haruki Suzumiya, from East Junior High. First off, I'm not interested in ordinary people. But, if any of you are aliens, time-travelers, or espers, please come see me. That is all!"_

Of course, no one really wants to repeat high school for the rest of eternity, so I was planning on eventually just giving in and doing what it seemed like every alien, esper and time-traveler in the universe wanted me to do - be "God's girlfriend". It probably would have worked out fine too if I hadn't taken my time about it. You see – I had bumped up against that cliff, and then somehow managed to push right past it and dragged Haruki's sanity down with me. Finally, my senseless procrastination seemed to have caught up with me in a decidedly dark way.

Itsuko-chan was the one that explained it to me best, or at least in a way that I could understand. Every time Haruki recreated reality, he also recreated a version of himself from his subconscious and it appeared that over time certain, ahem… "traits" of his personality were being amplified. Now, the jury is still out as to if I had any influence on the scum that eventually rose to the cesspool that would become Haruki Suzumiya's mind, but even I have to admit that I'm responsible for the cascade of reality resets that happened – at least initially.

Now, after nearly two dozen "resets", things were for lack of a better term, decidedly fucked up, with any semblance of reality or common sense having been thrown out the window a dozen iterations ago. At first it started off with stuff that read like a bad drama. Tsuruya-san's family were Yakuza and she needed to be rescued from a rival family, or the school was going to be demolished if we didn't win an intermural basketball competition. Really, just hokey kids garbage that was actually good for a laugh. I have to admit; at first I was really amused.

Then things started to take a darker turn. There was an underground fighting ring that we all had to sign up for – this one was painful as I was (and still am) a real waif of a girl. I don't like thinking back on it too much, but this was the first time any of the SOS brigade "died" in one of Haruki's little games. After that, things went from bad to worse. The reset before last, the one where I still debate my survival, was one where I was stalked by a sexually abusive serial killer. Based on my confusion over events, you can imagine what happened.

Compared to that, maybe the current iteration of reality wasn't so bad. At least no one was actively out to kill me; instead Haruki was doing it by small measures of degrees as he "trained" me to compete in an inter-high school sex slave pageant. I'm not sure he even knew it, but it was an entirely plagiarized plot from a doujinshi that currently resides on the third row of the bookshelf in the SOS Brigade club room. At the end, I'm supposed to win the competition and fall in love with my "master".

I'd rather choke on my own tongue.

Oh well, maybe he didn't read far enough, or remember it well enough to realize that his other "pet" is supposed to go full _yandere_ mode on him and knife him in the gut. I can only hope that in this case, reality imitates art. Go for it Itsuko-chan!

As I lament my fate I start to put the finishing touches on my outfit. First I place the collar around my neck. From a distance it looks like a classy black choker, but up close you can see it's actually a pet collar with a heart shaped tag that says "Kyonko" – just in case anyone didn't already know I was Haruki's bitch. Next is probably the most unpleasant part of my daily outfit. I reach for my vanity and procure a large tube of lubricant and a rubber black invader that can only be called "gruesome". After a minute of wrangling and some intense agony that almost causes me to orgasm I have it firmly in place and I release the breath I had been holding. Sitting down will be unpleasant/pleasant from now on.

After that I lean back on my bed, moaning slightly because of… well, reasons, and pull up my long black socks to my thighs. I take care to make sure that I have them at the appropriate length for " _Zettai Ryouiki – Grade A_ " _._ It's one of Haruki's new fetishes – I need to have the appropriate gap between the top of my socks to the bottom of my ever decreasing skirt. The later wouldn't be so bad if I was allowed to wear panties.

Finally I swap out my night-time bra for my day one, and then put in some absorbent pads to help control the inevitable leakage. I toss on my normal North High school shirt, it's the largest size they have and unfortunately it hangs off my chest and still reveals my midriff. At least Haruki doesn't have a thing for navel jewellery. Taking a moment to observe the full effect in the mirror I can't help but think that I look like some perverts delusion of a _hentai_ character, which of course, is entirely intentional on Haruki's part. The absolute last thing I do is gather up my waist length hair and tie it together with a black ribbon in a ponytail. This is just for me – I like ponytails.

My stomach finally grumbles as I reach for the door. As much as I'd like to contemplate dying, I know it's not allowed, so there really is no practical use in trying to starve myself to death. I wince as I take the stairs on my way down to the kitchen, each step causing a certain vile device to shift uncomfortably in my body. By the time I reach the last step I'm already sweating and panting. This is no good. I'll never last at this rate.

My hunger instantly disappears when I contemplate the walk to school up that damn hill.

SH-SH-SH

I fidget in my seat as Okabe goes about calling attendance for homeroom. I should have known something was up the moment I arrived and saw the massive water cooler on my desk. Hey, sensei – shouldn't I put that away? It's not allowed to have drinks in class, right? Sadly Okabe doesn't seem to understand my predicament as he continues to call out names.

"Aren't you going to start drinking?" asks Haruki from behind me. He's giggling to himself in his usual demented way.

No, I am not! It's probably poison, or drugs, or something else that's going to kill me you bastard. Why would any normal or sane person drink suspicious drinks left on their desk by people who are probably disgusting criminals?

"Hey!" shouts Haruki at me as he forcefully yanks my head back by my ponytail, "Who said you could talk to me like that?"

I try to stammer out a response, my eyes desperately searching the classroom for help. Of course, everyone completely ignores the drama playing out between two of their fellow classmates. It seems that no matter how disruptive Haruki gets in this reality, people just ignore it. No one ever helps me, well except for Nagato-kun, and even then only when he can get away with it.

"This is an order from your master, start drinking bitch," he whispers in my ear. With a swift motion he throws my head forward with so much force that it nearly bounces off my desk. I mumble some expletives under my breath.

"What was that?" he growls from behind me.

I clear my throat and tell my "master" that I will obey his asinine commands. I really don't have any choice as he can easily overpower me if he wants to and no one will lift a finger to come to my defence. I pick up the container- it's the kind that you'd see at a football game or other sporting event. With a quick twist I pop the top off it and realize it has a pour lid. I suspect that I'm supposed to just drink from it this way?

I close my eyes and prepare for the worst – drugs, alcohol, maybe even urine (it wouldn't be the first time). However, much to my surprise, it appears to be just normal water.

"What? Were you expecting piss?" Haruki laughs from behind me.

Yes actually, I was entirely expecting that. My internal narration even beat you to the comment you asshole. Resigned to my fate, I keep drinking and drinking until it feels like my small stomach is going to burst. Just as I set the jug back down on my desk, Haruki needles me in the back with a mechanical pencil.

"Keep drinking," he states firmly.

What a fucking pain in the ass, literally even as I am rocking in my seat trying to hold my stomach. I can already tell where this is heading and I have no choice but to endure, so I lift the jug up again to my lips and continue drinking. About half way through the container I nearly throw up but Haruki clamps my mouth shut with his hand and forces me down. Once I'm settled again, he prompts me to continue. Eventually, by the time second period rolls around the contents of the jug are gone and my bladder is bursting. I raise my hand to ask to be excused, but Haruki slaps it down.

"Not yet," he says with a hint of menace in his voice.

Math continues for another thirty minutes and in my current state each tick on the clock is excruciating to withstand. Eventually the teacher asks for a student to come up and solve a problem on the board. I find Haruki grabbing my elbow and forcing me to volunteer.

Just as the teacher nods to me and I start to rise from my seat, Haruki holds me for a second and whispers a command in my ear. I'm shocked at first, but also somewhat relieved. The fact that I am even a little bit happy about this makes me start hating myself.

I approach the blackboard and pick up the chalk and then start working on the problem. I consider defying Haruki for a moment and I turn my back to look at him. He's glaring with what I can only assume is murderous intent. Slowly, I place the chalk back down in the metal ledge underneath the board and turn to face the class.

"Sorry everyone," I say with sincere regret in my voice. "Please watch."

Thirty pairs of eyes all bulge out of their sockets as I lift the front of my super short skirt and begin to release the contents of my distended bladder. I'm both crying and laughing at the same time, partly out of the absurdity of the situation, partly out of shame, but mostly out of relief.

At least I didn't wear panties today.

In the back of the room, Haruki is laughing and smiling. The look in his eyes lets me know that this won't be the last depraved thing I'll have to endure before I go home for the day.

SH-SH-SH

It seems quite strange to me that despite doing something that should at the very least get a guidance counsellor involved, if not a small battery of social workers, that I am able to remain in class for the rest of the day. In fact, other than people occasionally calling me " _Piss-chan_ " behind my back, no actual action was taken against me by the school administration. Obviously this must be Haruki's doing somehow as this is most definitely not normal.

Speaking of normal, the rest of the day actually _is_ – or perhaps, _is not_ considering usually my afternoon is spent with Haruki sexually molesting me in class with a variety of implements and devices. Instead he's nowhere to be found and I find myself, for the first time in months (maybe even years? I can't remember anymore) enjoying school. Everyone pretty much ignores me, but occasionally I see my old middle-school friend Kunikida, looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

It's kind of sad, but even in this reality Kunikida still has an unrequited love for me. I honestly don't know how he bears it considering the stuff Haruki has me do in front of everyone. Taniguchi is probably not bothered by it, he is after all, an enormous pervert, but Kunikida on the other hand – well, he's too pure hearted. It's a shame that I am not a _shotacon_ or maybe I would have been Kunikda's girlfriend since middle school and my life wouldn't be so terrible now. Curse you and your child-like looks, Kunikida!

Finally the class bell rings and I get up from my desk and collect my books. I rub my shoulders a little bit and stretch out my back – it's gone what can only be described as "crunchy" from my habit of incessantly leaning forward in an attempt to literally get a weight off my shoulders by resting my chest on the desk. Sadly there's no help for it other than an expensive surgery that makes my stomach flip when I think about it, so I just gather my remaining things and head towards the Brigade room.

There is, as expected, a slight amount of snickering that follows me through the halls as I make my way to the building that houses the club rooms. By now, after months of "training" at the hands of an increasingly perverse Haruki, I've gained a high degree of infamy and I can hear the muttered comments as I walk around school. Normally if a girl had my reputation she'd be in constant danger, but it seems that even the most degenerate of perverts that attend North High are afraid of messing with "Haruki's property" so for the most part I am left alone other than the occasional skirt flipping and ensuing laughter.

When I eventually arrive at the clubroom I see that the only other brigade member in attendance is Nagato-kun. I'm relieved by this. Asahina-san and Itsuko-chan aren't all that bad people, but Nagato is the only one I really consider my friend. I don't know why, but I suspect that he hates Haruki almost as much as I do.

Nagato-kun momentarily looks up from his book as I move over towards the costume rack. Today is Wednesday so it's _nekomimi_ day. Normally being a cute catgirl wouldn't be too big of a problem. Unfortunately for me, Haruki's idea of a cute catgirl isn't acceptable in any way, shape or form. The "costume" if it can even be called that, consists of a harness, a pair of cat ears, some fluffy paws and a cat tail. The cat tail does not attach to the catgirl with tape. I'll leave the rest of it up to your imagination.

Months ago I probably would have politely asked Nagato-kun to leave the room despite the fact that he suspiciously never shows an interest in girls, however due to current events I am decidedly less shy than I was initially. Instead I start disrobing while trying to strike up some idle conversation.

I'm mid-way through taking off my socks when Nagato-kun closes his book and points towards the window.

"It's happening," he says in his normal monotone.

I turn my head and look to where he's pointing. Ah, yes, it's happening again. Closed Space is forming all around the school. I suppose this reality isn't going to hold on much longer. Hours maybe? Long enough for Haruki to get one last go at breaking my mind I'm sure. That's a depressing thought.

Oh well, it'll be over soon anyway I guess. That's not so bad is it, Nagato-kun? I mean, this reality was pretty disgusting, so I can't imagine it could much worse, right?

Nagato-kun simply goes back to his seat and picks up his book. I'll give him that – he's a man of little words, but they are profound and received loud and clear. Stupid, stupid girl, things can _always_ get worse.

I struggle with getting into the harness that makes up the "costume" and fiddle with the headband that supports the white cat ears I am wearing. Somewhat satisfied that everything is in place, I lean forward and reach behind myself to replace one torment for another. It takes a lot longer than I would like and by the time I'm done I'm close and on the edge. Nagato-kun briefly looks up from his book and I think I detect a faint glimpse of emotion. I'm certain it was probably pity.

Don't worry Nagato-kun, the last thing I want to do is further embarrass myself in front of you by climaxing from inserting a cat tail into my rectum. Seriously, I will bite off my own tongue and choke on it before I do something that disgusting.

I take another look outside the window. I can barely make out anything beyond the school grounds, it's like reality has simply ceased to exist from about a half a kilometre out. For all I know, this is actually the case. At least the giant blue monsters haven't shown up yet, although I do wonder what would happen if I could somehow manage to get one to crush me. Maybe if I died while Haruki was recreating the world then he wouldn't be able to bring me back? The thought brings a smile to my face.

Without warning I find a cool hand touching my shoulder.

"Backup?" asks Nagato as he stares out the window with me.

I agree. It's painful as hell, so I don't like doing it unless we need to, but it's sort of my secret, the one single advantage that I have over a mad god. You see, unlike everyone else in his little universe, I fully remember every single time that Haruki has recreated reality. I don't know why this is, but I suspect it is either a sign of his favour or hatred.

In any case, once I informed Nagato-kun of this fact, he devised a way for me to essentially store a copy of his persona inside my own brain. I can't access it, only Nagato-kun can do so, and it hurts like a million nails being hammered into my head, but it does allow me to basically restore Nagato-kun "from backup" in every new reality. It is my sincere hope that with enough time and patience the Data Integration Thought Entity will be able to use Nagato-kun's memories to devise a way to destroy Haruki. A girl has to have dreams after all.

Nagato-kun places his hand on my head and for a moment I think he looks sorry. No real words are spoken, just the insane gibberish that I can't understand and then it hits me like a truck. The next thing I know I am being pulled up from the floor by a pair of strong arms and my vision swims back into focus. There is a trickle of blood coming from my nose. Basically, it's the usual.

I barely have time to collect myself before the door slams open. I don't even have to move my head to know who it is; no one else would abuse school property like that. I quickly separate from Nagato-kun and assume the appropriate position for a house pet. Two cat-like utterances of " _nyan nyan"_ later and I'm being led down the hall by a leash on my hands and knees to the last moments of my life on earth. Or at least, this particularly hellish incarnation of it.

SH-SH-SH

It turns out that Haruki wanted some new upgraded laptops from the computer club, so today I am being lent to them as part of my regular "special training". Haruki makes a point to tell me that I should be grateful for the opportunity to be of some minimal usage to the SOS Brigade considering how pathetic and worthless I usually am. I am only allowed to meow at him in response otherwise I get a kick to the ass, which as I'm sure you will recall, is especially tender at the moment.

In a way, I actually am grateful. The computer club is filled mostly with normal guys and not the kind of sadists like Haruki. Because of this, there really is just a limited amount of creativity put into their abuses of me and it's nothing that I can't endure. I can even tell that Haruki is getting bored of it as he leaves about half way through the first group of members having their way with me. The club president himself, a 3rd year student, is actually rather gentle in a way as when I'm about to choke and pass out, he lets up enough for me to catch my breath. He even mutters a shamed faced apology. Of course, if he was a decent human being he wouldn't even be doing this in the first place.

That's actually not true I suspect. It's entirely possible that any of my fellow students, just like myself, are being manipulated to play this part in Haruki's little perverted game. For all I know, the guy busily making himself acquainted with my tail end right now has a precious girlfriend he'd never cheat on. Not that it'd matter, we're all puppets for a demented puppet master named Haruki Suzumiya.

I won't dwell too much on what happens here because really, I don't want to remember it. Suffice it to say, I suffer for a long time until eventually I pass out, sore, tired and broken. Like I said, it's Wednesday.

However, when I wake up, I'm in an entirely different place.

SH-SH-SH

No matter how many times I experience it, I'll never get used to the sensation of being in Closed Space. First off, the most pronounced aspect is the utter and complete lack of sound. That isn't to say that you can't _make sound,_ just that it doesn't occur naturally. It's like the entire world has been stilled. The sound that you do make is also wrong – it's muffled, or distorted, like it's coming from deep under a pool of water or like your ears are stuffed with cotton.

I wearily rise from ground and try to take a single step, but fall. My legs still haven't recovered their strength. I look around the room – I'm where I last was, the computer society's club room, but I'm the only person present. This is normal. Usually when this happens only me and Haruki are in this little pocket dimension. It's probably the _how_ of my flawless recollection of every universe my personal tormentor creates.

I gather my breath one more time and using my arms to steady myself and rise to my feet. My cat ears are dangling from my head and I adjust them back into place. I'm just about to look around for my tail when I catch myself. Just how messed up do you have to be at the end of the world to go looking for the very objects used to torment you as if it's the most natural thing in the world to do? I have to admit it, it seems like Haruki has finally managed to worm his way into my skull and he didn't have to do it with a crowbar, just with a whip and a lot of patience.

I really do wish I could bite my tongue off.

I'm just about to leave the room when one of the computers to my left turns on with a suspicious sound. I'm fairly certain that this shouldn't happen, but I am also certain that I know someone who could potentially _make_ this happen. I shamble over and observe a single line of message on the dull CRT.

" _Run for the void."_

Noted Nagato-kun. I have no idea what this means, but noted. I turn away and head for Haruki as one other thing I am certain of is that I know exactly where I'll find him. It doesn't take long.

"Are you ready to just finally give up?" he asks me with a dispassionate voice. It's one of the odd things about being here with him in "Closed Space", he seems far more… normal. I have no idea why this is.

I ignore him and head for the tree he's sitting under, each barefoot step I'm taking is literally sending lances of pain up my spine. I note offhandedly that I'm leaking again.

"Why won't you give up?" he asks me. I almost sense a touch of concern in his voice.

"Do you think I like doing these things to you?"

Yes actually, I really think you do. I'm sure you're a sadistic piece of crap that doesn't deserve the respect given to a cockroach feasting on a pile of shit. How about this instead – Why don't you kill yourself first, or baring that, fucking kill me already?

He just laughs at my outburst. "You know, I actually like that fiery side of you. It's so different from Itsuko-chan, it's why I always liked you better than her."

I look around and notice that the blue giants are moving again, their massive hands and arms striking out and demolishing the reality around us. I suppose it won't be long now. I turn my back on Haruki and stare at one particularly large giant who is demolishing a rather stubborn piece of school architecture.

"Kyonko, you know I only do these things because I love you," he says to my back. I can feel his breath on my neck. It makes me shudder in both anticipation and revulsion. I can't help the things that he's done to my body and it makes me want to vomit.

I try to spin away from him, but I can't get away. I've always been a small girl, barely breaking an even five feet tall and my proportions are what could only be generously described as "slight". In comparison, Haruki is a mountain. I'm defeated before I've ever begun.

"Dammit, why do you keep running? I could make you so happy if you'd just let me!" he shouts into my face. I feel the wetness of his spittle hitting my eyes. I doubt he realizes how fucking scary he is to a girl that's barely even half his size.

Haruki looks taken aback for a moment. It's enough for me to wrench my arm free of his grip. I can see that the giants have made short work of nearly everything except the immediate vicinity. I start contemplating my previous idea – death by giant stomp might be my ticket out of this hell.

Haruki sighs as he sees the terror on my face. Eventually he seems to gather some resolve. The words he says next strike new levels of fear into my heart.

"I guess I'll just have to try harder."

Try harder? Like what? Are you going to cut off all my arms and legs and make me into a human toilet until I'll swallow your shit willingly? Are you going to shock me with electrodes until I'm too afraid of pissing myself if you raise your voice at me? What the hell are you going to do? WHY WON'T YOU LET IT END?

I'm hysterical and ranting now. Haruki looks confused. Maybe there is some semblance of humanity left inside the shell of that beast, some tiny part of the boy that I thought I loved. Maybe this is why he seems to look aggrieved, even if just for a second. Thankfully, a second is all I need.

" _Run for the void."_

The words written on that CRT screen echo in my mind. Finally, I understand what Nagato-kun was saying as I see it right in front of me. It doesn't take long, barely even a few steps and it feels like my entire body is just...

Sliding into space.

SH-SH-SH

Authors Note:

So, first off – thanks for reading if you made it this far. I suspect that it wasn't an easy journey for anyone. I debated on using the 1st person narrative of the normal (for me) 3rd person narrative for this story, but stuck with the 1st person for a couple of reasons. First off, it's traditional for a story set in this world and secondly, in this particular case I really do want readers to develop a degree of empathy for Kyonko, so much so that I hope that by the time you are reading this, you are really raging at Haruki.

I have a few other works that I am doing right now, but I had a plot bunny in my head for this story and I felt compelled to write it. Thankfully, not only did I have a plot bunny, but I have a very detailed multi-page plot outline complete with ending for this fiction. By that measure, I should be able to finish it sometime before hell freezes over.

That being said, I suppose how soon I get back to this will be primarily based on reader response. If people really want to see more of this, then I'll prioritize it over the other pieces I'm working on. Otherwise, it'll come along as the mood hits me – so make sure to follow so that you don't miss an update as they may be infrequent.

Considering this is my first fan fiction in this particular fandom, I would appreciate it if people would leave me a review and let me know what they're thinking so far. My goal right now is to basically make people sympathetic to Kyonko as well as very afraid of Haruki (and by extension, the implications about Haruhi as well).

Cheers,

QC


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